


Twenty-one.

by onotherflights



Series: Yuri's Snapshots [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Affectionate Teasing, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Otabek's family, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Otabek's bike makes an appearance, Phone Sex, Pillow Talk, Sexting, Smut, Smut and Fluff, Teasing, Yuri's two dads, fond, so much fond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9287183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: By the time he was twenty-one, everyone else got to watch public Yuri change, just a little bit. He was calmer, learning to roll his eyes when someone wasn't looking instead of lashing out. Some of that had to do with his age, but Yuri would get annoyed with almost everyone around him sometimes, it didn't matter how old he got. Otabek was the only one who didn't annoy him so much, but even with him Yuri couldn't hold back his sassy comments, it was just his nature.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just Victuuri as Yuri’s proud and oblivious dads, and then just layer upon layer of fluffy, sinful filth. Also there are too many headcanons shoved into this bc I'm a monster who has no control. I'm sorry I'm not sorry.

While private Yuri stayed the same over the years, only Otabek was a witness to that. Private Yuri was a bit quiet too, not as quick to show his temper when his guard was down.

By the time he was twenty-one, everyone else got to watch public Yuri change, just a little bit. He was calmer, learning to roll his eyes when someone wasn't looking instead of lashing out. Some of that had to do with his age, but Yuri would get annoyed with almost everyone around him sometimes, it didn't matter how old he got. Otabek was the only one who didn't annoy him so much, but even with him Yuri couldn't hold back his sassy comments, it was just his nature.

Viktor Nikiforov was someone that still annoyed him, through all the years. In some way, he had grown fond of Viktor and Katsuki Yuuri, would maybe even call them friends if he had a few drinks in him first. He was around them a lot more, as Viktor had taken over as his coach, finally, after Yakov’s heart attack lead him to retire earlier than planned. Viktor was a good coach in the sense that he always gave him decent choreography to work with and did all the obligatory coach things that Yakov had done. On the other end, he was still forgetful, and it only got worse with his old age (he was in his thirties by then). The memory loss was also probably due to Yuuri, as Viktor tended to lose focus whenever his husband was around and the wind blew the right way.

Although Yuri had gotten better at not yelling at everyone, sometimes Viktor was such an airhead he was just begging for the younger man to yell at him. And sometimes, the pair of them were so wrapped up in each other that they were totally oblivious to what was right in front of them, and Yuri had to yell at them both.

Recently, He'd been staying at Yuuri’s family’s hot springs for the past few weeks for training. Viktor had bought the two of them a house nearby after they were married, so thankfully Yuri didn't have to see them all day because even though they offered him a room there was only so much disgusting public displays of affection he could take.

He missed his cats and Otabek back home, but they'd had the same arrangement for a while and it was for the best. Besides, technology made it easy to keep in touch, even when they had to focus on training.

On that particular morning, Yuri was the first one on the ice, but he only had about ten minutes before Yuuri joined him, explaining that Viktor was sleeping in for a bit longer as they warmed up.

“Alright, I'll go first.” Yuri said after about twenty minutes, and the dark-haired man nodded and skated over to the edge of the rink, leaning over to where Yuri's phone was blasting music as it laid on the cart beside the old blue radio he and Viktor still used.

Yuri waited in the center of the rink for him to change the music to the composition for his short program, but there was just a lot of silence, Yuuri having his back to him.

“What are you waiting for?” The blonde complained.

Yuuri turned around, pink tinting his cheeks. He pushed his glasses up his nose and murmured his answer.

“Um, Otabek Altin texted you.”

Yuri furrowed his brow in confusion. It was three in the morning back home, Becka should be sleeping before he had to get up for his own morning session. Slightly worried something had happened to one of the cats or to his boyfriend, Yuri skated over and took his phone back, smirking when he saw the text on his screen.

Nothing was wrong, Otabek just missed him. One part of him, more specifically.

Yuuri just stood there while the blonde opened his messages and started texting back.

“Uh, Yurio, I just think-”

“Don't.” Yuri said bluntly, still looking down at his phone. “And don't call me Yurio.”

Yuri texted Otabek back:  _ You better get some sleep before practice. I'll call you tonight x _

He couldn't get distracted just because Otabek missed fucking him, he missed being fucked too but there was work to be done.

Meanwhile, the other Yuri had gathered his courage to speak up again. “I just think it’s-”

Yuri shot him a look with a raised eyebrow, one hand on his hip.

“Fine,” Yuuri sighed. “I  _ know _ it's not smart to sleep with another skater in your division.”

It quickly passed through Yuri’s mind that katsudon had probably picked up some Russian from Viktor, especially some choice words. So it was no wonder he was blushing from reading the text Otabek had sent.

Yuri huffed out a laugh. “You're one to talk.”

“That's different!” Yuuri defended, his cheeks still flushed pink. “Viktor and I are married!”

As if he had heard his name and felt that he was being summoned, Viktor announced his arrival by scolding the two younger skaters.

“Why do I hear so much talking and no music?”

The older man strolled around the rink, walking across to where Yuuri was leaning with his back against the edge. He wrapped his arms around his husband, kissing his cheek affectionately.

The two Yuri's looked at each other, eyes narrowing as they silently challenged each other. Katsuki Yuri blurted out first.

“Yurio is sleeping with the competition, Vitya.”

Viktor gasped audibly. “But you're too young to have a lover, Yurio.”

Yuri was stunned silent, standing in front of the couple with a slack jaw.

“I'm not fifteen anymore, old man!” He spit harshly at Viktor once he had regained his senses. “I'm twenty-one years old, which is five years older than you were when you had your first lover.”

Yuri crossed his arms over his chest smugly, thinking that had settled it.

“Ah, my first lover. . .” Viktor sighed wistfully, a bit sadly, staring off in the distance like scenes of summer sunshine were flashing in front of his eyes.

“Anyway,” katsuki Yuuri said pointedly. “The age doesn't matter. What matters is that you can't just sleep around with other skaters. You'll start to develop feelings and it will all get so complicated, and it won't be good for your career, Yurio.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, skating over to the edge of the rink and setting his phone face down. He could feel his anger bubbling up; nothing got under Yuri’s skin like wasted time. He should be skating, not disclosing the details of his love life to two idiots.

“Don't you think this conversation is about two years too late?”

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up above the frame of his glasses. “You've been sleeping with Otabek Altin for two years?!”

Yuri could feel his fists clenching unconsciously. “We live together! What did you think we were doing all this time, braiding each other's hair?!”

Well, that wasn't necessarily a lie. Otabek sometimes did braid his hair, Yuri lying out on his tummy with the Kasakh man sitting behind him on his knees. Then he would push the braid to the side and rub Yuri’s shoulders and down his back. It was really nice. But still. The point was - Yuri Katsuki was an idiot, and Viktor was an idiot by marriage.

“We thought you were just companions this whole time.” Viktor admitted quietly, as if he knew what Yuri’s reaction would be.

“Companions?!” The smaller man yelled, his voice level filling the space in the room that he lacked. He continued in quick, thick Russian, so Viktor could receive his full verbal assault and katsudon was left three steps behind translating bits and pieces. “You fucking idiots! Are you really that dense? Or are you so busy shoving your disgusting displays of affection down the whole world’s throats that you can't even recognize a normal relationship when it's happening right in front of your faces?”

“You've never even kissed Otabek in front of us, how were we to know?” Viktor defended.

“That's because it's private! I'm not just going to slobber all over my boyfriend when I'm meant to be skating, competing. Unlike  _ some people _ , we can wait until we’re home to be together, we don't have to pimp out the fact that we’re in love for everyone to see!”

Yuri is still yelling at them, but for some reason the two men before him completely soften, making faces like they're cooing at a newborn kitten.

“What?” He frowns. He was kind of hoping Viktor would yell some more.

“You said that you're in love!” Viktor smiled wide, his tone dripping in pride.

“You called him your  _ boyfriend _ .” Yuuri added, a matching smile turning up the corners of his lips.

“Well, he- he is! What's the big deal anyway? Why the hell are we still talking about this?” Yuri demanded, and if anyone claimed there was a flush to his cheeks, Yuri would claim it was still from anger.

“Aww, Yurio,” Viktor dragged out the last syllable affectionately. He hugged his husband closer, pressing their faces together, cheek to cheek. “They grow up so fast.”

“Shut up, old man.” Yuri rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the edge and warming up, skating figure eights. “Put the music on or I'll find a new coach.”

Yuri had said that many times, and it probably would be easier to have a coach that didn't care so much about Yuri’s personal life. At the end of the day, it was always an empty threat. No matter how much the pair annoyed him, he belonged with them.

  
  
  
  


Even then, Yuri also belonged with someone else. He was lazy in the mornings without anyone to wake him up with kisses and a cup of coffee big enough for two. The nights were much worse though. He and Otabek weren't too spoiled to falling asleep in their bed at home, as they probably spent more nights falling asleep together on planes or in hotels. When they were apart after an extended period of being together, though, it felt like diving into cold water. Literally, Yuri was too cold in his bed alone with no Otabek to spoon and no cats to curl up on the pillow next to him. He missed the warmth, the familiarity of Otabek's arms around him. The smell of fresh sheets and soap, his cat purring contently. These were things that made up their home, and it was always hard to sleep in a place that wasn't home. 

Of course, he missed other parts of the nights they spent together. Being home meant they didn't have to rush, they could touch and explore each other for hours, making love until the sun had started to rise. It was those times, when they were in their private, intimate world (which was only as wide as their bed) that they had the best conversations. When they were away it wasn't so much the physical need that was neglected, that could be taken care of in tons of creative ways. What he really missed was the connection. Yuri had never needed anyone and he was fine on his own, but he felt safe in otabek’s arms, when he could have his guard down.

It was something you couldn't fake over the phone.

He did call Otabek, as promised,when he was settled in for the night.

“Hey,” he answered softly, on the second ring. Yuri would play the sound of his voice over and over again in his head after the call ended.

They talked for a while about normal things, Yuri had to ask if the cats were doing well. Sometimes when Yuri left they would retaliate and knock over a vase or two. Thankfully, they hadn't planned a rebellion yet. They talked about skating, going over notes with each other. Japanese Yuuri was wrong about it distracting from his career, if anything being with Otabek drove him to be a better skater, and the competition drove them both to always be at the top of their game.

Once they'd run through the basics, Yuri got to the real reason he had called. He dropped it casually in a beat of silence, after Otabek had given a tired sigh. It was a sigh that meant he missed Yuri, that he wished he was on the other side of the bed instead of the other side of the world.

“Do you wish you were inside of me right now?”

He smirked at the sharp intake on the other end of the line, the soft sounds of sheets rustling.

“Yura, give a man some warning next time.”

Yuri laughed softly, pushing the waistband of his sleep shorts down his thighs and wrapping a lazy hand around himself, rubbing over the head. He listened carefully to Otabek, picturing him doing the same. “You know I hate wasting time. Get on with it.”

Getting off together over phone calls wasn't a new thing for them. They essentially spent half of their relationship as a long distance couple, it was relatively normal. It gave Yuri a chance to use his filthy mouth just to drive Otabek insane with lust, and he always took advantage of that. It wasn't that he was too shy to say shocking things when they were physically together, it was usually that his mouth was too busy kissing Otabek, or otherwise occupied.

He also secretly reveled in the fact that he could say those things, all the filthy and beautiful things he wanted to do with Otabek, and no one that potentially walked past his door in the middle of the night would understand what he was saying.

“Is it tight?” Yuri murmured a few minutes after he had told Otabek to wrap his fist around his cock. He was stroking himself as well, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

He waited for Otabek’s strained response, a soft groan of confirmation and something that vaguely sounded like a “yes”.

“Not as tight as I am.” He murmured smugly, but it was enough for Otabek to hear him.

“Fuck, Yura. I-” he groaned softly, and Yuri could predict what he would say next. He would say that he was about to come, that he was close. Yuri wasn't far off either.

“I need you.”

Yuri's breath caught at the unexpected words. He'd thought surely all the blood in his body had rushed south, but apparently there was enough left to make his heart pump faster and warmth to fill his cheeks.

Those words affected Yuri in a way he hadn't imagined they would. Surely it wasn't the first time Otabek had said something like that in the heat of the moment, but as he tried to recall another time he couldn't pinpoint one.

He got back on track, enough hear Otabek curse a few more times in Russian and English each, and then go quiet. Hearing Otabek muffle the sounds he made when he came wasn't nearly as satisfying as watching him in real life, the way he'd usually search for something to bite into and hide his face and stifle his moans. He was embarrassed about it anytime it wasn't Yuri there with him, begging to see his face when he did it, because it was truly a sight to see. 

Yuri was overly aware of the fact that, unlike Otabek, he wasn't alone and there were other people in the house, and he definitely didn't want any of those people to hear him moaning his boyfriend’s name the way he desperately wanted to.

“You've not finished yet,” Otabek murmured, voice low and steady once more, a little bit sleepier too. “Keep going, Yura. Think of us.”

Otabek wasn't so elaborate with the dirty talk, but he didn't need to be. Just that request had Yuri's mind flooding with memories, one particular one coming to mind. There was another time he'd had trouble being quiet, one of the rare times they couldn't wait until they got home, so maybe Yuri was a hypocrite after all. They were shopping on a Sunday, and there weren't many people in the store, so no one noticed when Otabek dragged him to the dressing room and locked the door before he got on his knees. Yuri didn't worry about how loud or quiet he was at home, but when they were in public like that, he became hyperaware of it. It had been particularly hard that day, because Otabek really knew what he was doing and he wasn't making it easy at all for Yuri to stay quiet. The idea that someone would hear them turned him on more, the danger of it, but he would be absolutely humiliated if his big mouth had made it actually happen, so he bit his lip hard and gripped Otabek’s hair harder. When it got really bad and he was straining not to express his pleasure, Otabek had carefully slipped his mouth away and looked up at him with soft eyes.

“Just put your fingers in your mouth.” He had whispered hoarsely, barely giving Yuri time to think before he dipped his head back down.

It had helped then, Yuri having something in his mouth too.

He tried it again, slipping two digits into his mouth while his other hand worked him over desperately. He could hear Otabek on the other end of the call, just the soft rustle of sheets as he moved around,  _ their _ sheets in  _ their _ bed. He sucked gently on his fingers, biting down softly when his climax hit him.

He slowly let his fingers fall from his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. As the aftershocks passed, he let out a soft sigh, feeling relieved and just a small bit hollow. He was sated, but it was nothing like the real thing.

“Hey,” Otabek murmured softly, sounding like when he had first answered the phone. It was like he was calling Yuri back to reality, when he had been perfectly content with the images in his head. Still, Otabek Altin existed in both, so reality wasn't too bad.

Yuri smiled sleepily, stretching out and searching for the tissue box hidden under the bed to clean himself off.

“Thank you.” Otabek added, and Yuri huffed out a laugh.

“The pleasure was all mine.”

They both sounded tired, and not just in the literal way. The first few weeks were always the hardest.

“Go back to sleep, Beka.” Yuri said softly. “I'm only a plane trip away.”

It was something they always said, a comforting phrase for whenever they were separated. It made all of it easier, knowing that when the work was done, it meant they were only one or two flights away from being together again.

“See you soon.” Otabek replied, and Yuri waited for the line to go dead before closing his eyes and rolling over to sleep, a familiar voice playing over in his mind.

  
  
  


Fortunately or not, all things came to an end. Training season ended and Yuri took the plane trip home, as promised. Viktor was well aware that Yuri didn't need extra time with his coach once he had his routine down, he would practice just as well and as often when he was home in Almaty as he would in Hasetsu, maybe even better. Therefor, Yuri had two full months to spend with Otabek before they both had to board planes for the first competition. As usual, he didn't want to waste a minute of it. 

They were never the dramatic reunion types. Yuri quickly found Otabek waiting for him at the airport, leaning against the wall in his favorite worn leather jacket. He was also carrying Yuri's helmet, tiger striped of course, and both of the sights made Yuri’s interest pique.

Otabek waved lightly to make sure he was seen, a soft smile breaking through as Yuri walked towards him with his suitcase in tow. They weren't the kind to cry and run into each other's arms, there was plenty of time for passion when they were alone together, without the watchful eyes of everyone in the airport, some of whom would recognize their national hero if they slowed down and took a second glance.

Yuri finally made it to Otabek, his smile unfading. Otabek brushed his golden bangs back from his forehead and leaned closer to plant a soft kiss there. Yuri closed his eyes and savored the moment, feeling as though time had paused. Slowly, Otabek pulled away, the hand that was in his hair sliding down his body easily and resting on his hip. 

“If we’re riding,” Yuri said, motioning to his helmet in Otabek’s hands, “where are we going to stick my suitcase?” 

Otabek just lets the corners of his mouth stay turned up. He would be smiling like that for the next two months. He wordlessly took the suitcase from Yuri and threw his arm around his shoulder, leading him towards the parking garage. 

Apparently, Otabek had lucked out. Not only had he managed to find his sister Dasha’s car in the employee reserved section, he'd managed to steal an open spot next to it. Yuri leaned against the car holding his helmet as Otabek fished out his extra key, unlocking the trunk and carefully placing Yuri’s suitcase inside before locking it again. 

“Whose idea was that?” Yuri questioned, already knowing the answer. 

Otabek laughed easily, walking around and leaning against the car with his hands on either side of Yuri’s head, caging him in. “Who do you think?” He smirked, fondly gazing over Yuri’s features, like he was trying to determine if anything had changed about him in the time they'd been apart. 

Of course Dasha had offered to keep Yuri’s suitcase, she would do anything if it gave her an excuse to visit her big brother’s apartment. Dasha was the youngest of Otabek’s siblings, and Yuri secretly liked her the best. She was the most family-oriented of all of them, and she had accepted and loved Yuri from day one while Otabek’s brothers had been a little slow to warm up to. Dasha was beautiful and kind, and far more cunning than her sweet personality let on. 

She worked at a small café inside of the airport, and she absolutely loved baking. Yuri couldn't wait to see what cake or pastry she would surely bring for them when she would drop off the suitcase. 

“She will be around tomorrow morning, probably make breakfast for us as well.” Otabek said as Yuri wrapped an arm around the older man’s neck, looking up at him with soft eyes. “She knows better than to visit tonight.”

Yuri rolled his eyes but laughed all the same. “You would be so lucky.” He smirked, pulling Otabek in. They could kiss properly now, without anyone around to invade their little bubble. Otabek kissed him deep and slow, one hand cradling Yuri's face.

They could stay that way for hours if they had wanted to, and Yuri would have been happy even if his jaw began to ache. He had missed being close to Otabek, missed their little bubble. It was the warmth and love that surrounded them whenever they were alone together. It was the feeling that even though he hadn't stepped foot into the flat on the outskirts of the city, he already felt like he was home.

Eventually, Otabek's kisses traveled down to his neck, Yuri titling his head back against the car to give him better access. Otabek wrapped his arms around Yuri's small waist, holding him close.

“Hey,” he breathed out airily, his possessive fingers tangled in Otabek’s thick hair, his thumb rubbing over the fine line where his longer hair stopped and his undercut began. “Thought you were taking me for a ride.” 

Otabek nodded slightly, leaning up to capture his lips one more time before hesitantly pulling away. They walked over to the bike, Otabek removing his helmet from its lock and sliding it on as Yuri did the same with his. Otabek straddled the bike with ease, Yuri sliding on the back and pressing his body flush against the other man and his thin arms wrapped tightly around Otabek’s waist as he pushed back the kickstand. 

“Welcome home, Yura.” He said, just before the engine roared to life. 

  
  
  


Otabek drove around the city, cruising along their regularly visited spots. They stopped at their favorite coffee shop in the city to share a cup as the sun set, curled up in two armchairs in the back of the shop. Otabek read a book, and Yuri updated his social media. When Otabek went to the bathroom, Yuri stole the book and scribbled notes along the edges of the page, knowing Otabek would see them later and smile. 

By the time they left the shop, it was dark. They were about to head home when they took a slight excursion, stopping along an abandoned dirt road. Then it was Otabek sitting in the back, holding onto Yuri’s waist as he sped up and down the deserted road. Yuri had joked it wouldn't be right if he didn't cause at least a little trouble when he came back to Kazakhstan. 

After making a lot of noise and turning up some dirt, Yuri drove them home. They were calm as they got off the bike in the garage, walking quietly towards the elevator to their flat. Once they got into the door and it was locked behind them, all bets were off. 

Yuri’s clothes were gone by the time he'd made it to the bed. Otabek was unbuckling his jeans as he crawled over Yuri’s body. As soon as he was close enough, Yuri trapped him, kissing him hard and bracketing his legs around Otabek's hips, pushing his jeans and shorts down with his feet. Otabek smirked into the kiss, breaking it to step out of the bottom half of his clothes so that he was fully naked too. He stretched out to reach the bedside table, Yuri needily kissing his neck while he fumbled searching for the necessary items.

“Pillow.” He murmured as he sat back on his heels, and Yuri happily grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and positioned it under his hips, leaning up on his elbows to watch Otabek.

He was sitting back, hands cupped over his mouth as he blew hot air onto them in an effort to warm them up after being outside in the cold. He always did his part to make sure Yuri was given the absolute best even when they were impatient for it and it had been so long, and the younger man was so thankful for it.

Yuri tried to warm his own hands by rubbing them together, keeping his eyes on Otabek all the while. He drizzled lube over his fingers, spreading it with his thumb to make sure his fingers were coated.

Yuri didn't finger himself when he was away, he always saved it. He wanted to feel untouched again, brand new, only so Otabek could take him and wreck it all over again.

He was surprised then, when he felt Otabek’s finger circling his entrance for just a moment before dipping two fingers inside, inching in slowly. He bit down on his lip and laid flat instead of leaning up on his elbows, desperately trying to resist pushing his hips down greedily, focusing on how good the sudden stretch felt.

“Eager are we?” He said softly, playing coy and acting like it wasn't affecting him.

“I know you hate wasted time.” Otabek smirked, and even so he was already slowing it down. Otabek was an observer, and even after all the time they'd been together he always treated this time like he was still learning Yuri’s body. He loved his subtle reactions, how the curve of his fingers at the right moment could make his toes curl or his eyelashes flutter.

Yuri let himself be lazy, stroking himself leisurely as he watched Beka at the end of the bed, concentrating as he made careful work of opening him up. He was so focused, his eyebrows started to furrow like they always did when Otabek had one goal in mind.

Yuri moaned quietly as Otabek spread his fingers out, causing the older man to look up from what he was doing to meet strong jade eyes. Yuri smiled at him from where he lay, his gold hair fanned around him on the bed. He reached his spare hand out, letting his fingertips trace Otabek's brow until the creases between them smoothed over and he let his hand drop back to his side. Otabek’s lips upturned in a twin smile. They were so happy and at ease in their bed, no need to rush anything. It was no wonder they couldn't stop smiling and stealing kisses. If it were any other couple, Yuri would think all of the affection and fondness was a bit gag-inducing, but this was  _ them _ .

“So beautiful like this, Yurochka.” Otabek murmured, letting his left hand cradle Yuri’s jaw. He looks down and then back at Yuri’s face, pressing his thumb against Yuri's lips. Yuri pokes the tip of his tongue out and licks it playfully, and Otabek smears it over his bottom lip so it shines.

The nickname reminded Yuri of when he was young, like when he was sixteen and just the simple peck on the lips he'd wished for as his birthday gift had him feeling the butterflies he was feeling now.

With that memory slipping into his mind, he thought of another time, a conversation that had just recently happened. It made him laugh softly, almost a giggle under his breath. 

“What is it?” Otabek smiled at him quizzically. They had done this far too many times for Yuri to laugh nervously when Otabek was three fingers deep.

“It's just, that conversation in Hasetsu,” Yuri started, and Beka nodded knowingly. Yuri had called him to angrily recount the events a few days after it had happened. He had listened, and he was only mildly scarred by the fact that Yuuri Katsuki has seen the sext he had sent to Yuri. He would change the display screen settings later when Yuri was asleep.

“Viktor says I'm still too young to have a lover.”

Otabek grinned, shaking his head slightly. He carefully pulled his fingers away from Yuri’s entrance, quickly leaning down to capture the whine of protest from Yuri’s lips.

“Well, that is just too bad.” The dark-haired man quipped, finding the condom packet where it lay next to Yuri’s hip. He held the foil packet in his mouth, ripping open the top between his teeth. Then he carefully took the rubber out, rolling it onto his cock and slicking himself up with a small amount of lube. He lined up and looked down at Yuri for permission, receiving a reassuring nod.

Yuri closed his eyes as Otabek sunk into him, taking it inch by torturous inch until Yuri’s back was arched and Otabek's chest was touching parallel to his own. Otabek was fully inside of him, kissing Yuri's neck as he adjusted to the delicious stretch he'd been craving. Yuri didn't have the willpower to open his eyes again until he heard Otabek’s voice in his ear.

“I enjoy being your lover far too much to stop now.”

Yuri opened his eyes, content with the sight of Otabek leaning over him, his features kind.

“I love you, beka.” He murmured, quickly anchoring one hand within the longer strands of hair at the top of Otabek’s head, the other moving to rest on the warm skin of his back. He leaned up for a kiss before he could make any more embarrassing declarations.

Yuri held him there, kissing him roughly, as Otabek's hips began to roll slowly.

 

They settled back into each other like no time had gone by since the last time. There was something so familiar about the way Yuri held onto him, his ankles locked behind Otabek's back and his blunt nails scratching into his skin. But there was something so different and new with each moan or whimper Yuri let slip from his lips, each one disguising itself as a never-heard-before sound that drove Otabek to steadily increase his pace, aiming to receive more. 

Their small bits of conversation faded quickly. The focus shifted to the feeling of being connected again, and there were no words needed when they had reached that point.

The thing was, it was always good, but having to wait for it only made it better. It was overwhelming, not feeling the weight of Otabek’s body on him for months and then suddenly he was everywhere, a part of Yuri again.

It didn't matter how long he had lasted, Yuri was always a little bit disappointed in himself when he finished before Otabek. What could he say, he had a competitor’s heart. It was all Otabek's fault anyway, he was too good with his hands.

Otabek kissed his temple, damp with sweat by that point, pushing long strands of blonde away so they didn't cover up Yuri’s eyes. He let his own head lull between his shoulders, slowing down the pace of his hips. Yuri only pushed the heels of his feet down where they rested on the older man's back, ensuring he kept on fucking Yuri deep.

 

Otabek Altin always looked so beautiful when he came, it was truly a work of modern art that only Yuri got to see. People talked about Yuri’s beauty, his elegance and grace and that angelic look on his face when he skated. But no one else got to see how pretty Otabek’s face was when it happened. His eyes would flutter shut like he was falling asleep, strands of his hair clinging to his forehead, all pushed to the front. His lips would fall open in an oval shape, a low and beautiful moan falling from them. It was Yuri’s favorite sound in the world. He would go still for just a moment, then slowly open his eyes halfway again and look at Yuri, and his eyes said all the things he didn't have the ability to say in that moment, words like  _ thank you _ and  _ I love you  _ and  _ I'm so happy  _ all at once. 

His hips kept moving, bringing him through the aftershocks, and he craned his neck to kiss Yuri. Like when they were skating, he kept going until he was exhausted. 

They lay still for a moment, breath evening out between insistent kisses. Eventually, Otabek lets his head fall into the dip of Yuri’s shoulder and Yuri cards his fingers through his hair lovingly, the other hand tracing down the warm skin of Otabek's strong arms, which are wrapped protectively around him. Even when they can talk again, they don't feel the need to. Otabek had always said he can tell what Yuri is thinking by looking into his eyes. When he finally raises his head, it's clear as day, like it's written all over Yuri’s face:  _ love. _

 

  
  
The night didn't end then, because they were insatiable (at least Yuri was, and Otabek is more than willing to go the extra mile to send him to sleep satisfied) and simply because they finally _could._

It was late, far too late for them to still be awake when they have company in the morning. Otabek was lying still, the whole of Yuri’s body a comfortable weight on top of him. He's lying still too, humming contently as Otabek traces gentle lines down his back with his fingertips. He's quiet for a while, and Otabek starts to think he's fallen asleep when his blonde hair, mussed up in the back from rubbing against the sheets, and the rest of his head pop up with far too much energy.

He groaned internally, hoping Yuri was not about to ask for more. Otabek wouldn't say no, couldn't recall a time in his life that he had ever been able to deny Yuri Plisetsky anything he wanted, but there was a strong possibility he'd fall asleep midway through.

“It would be a shame, if we did have to stop.” Yuri smiled at him devilishly. “Being lovers, I mean.”

Recalling their earlier conversation, the older man smirked. Yuri traced his finger along Otabek’s jawline, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“You know why?” He pressed, eyes sleepy but every bit as mischievous.

Otabek knew why, he'd spent the last few hours in ecstasy, he knew exactly why.

“Why, love?” He indulged the younger man.

Yuri leaned in closer, inches from Otabek's lips so that he could kiss him a moment after he spoke.

“We’re so damn good at it.”

Otabek smiled softly against Yuri’s lips, holding Yuri's hips tightly and easily turning them over so that Yuri lay under him again, Otabek supporting his weight on his elbows.

“We won't stop then.” He promised. “But tell me, what else do I have to do to you so that you'll go to sleep tonight, Yura?” There was not an ounce of impatience in Otabek’s tone. He figured if he died ensuring that Yuri was completely satisfied, it would be a good way to go.

Yuri didn't provide him an answer, just giggled wickedly and wrapped his arms over Otabek’s broad shoulders, pulling him in for another slow kiss.

 

_ So be it _ , Otabek thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very helpful and appreciated! ;)
> 
> Feel free to stop by tumblr and say hi or [ reblog the post ](http://onotherflights.tumblr.com/post/155843854027/yuris-snapshots-two-of-four-by-the-time) for this fic :)


End file.
